Antiquated
by Timballisto
Summary: Korra thinks maybe the White Lotus crippled her by keeping her away from outsiders growing up. This isn't a war she can win with her bending, but with words, and she's not good at those. She's not good at a lot of things.


Because I think it's time Korra had some introspection and character development. I refuse to let Korra become a Makorra's bitch. I refuse to let a pairing make her less of an awesome character.

Just because she's a girl, doesn't mean you can whore her out to just anybody! I am very much a supporter of the badass!Korra faction, and I refuse to let her be slighted in such a way. Away with you, pubescent female who writes awful Makorra fluff. When you learn to make Mako and Korra equally awesome (maybe those Equalists have a point, if applied to pairings...) you can come back and write something cool.

As for now, please enjoy.

* * *

Korra slams her fist deep into the canyon wall, frowning savagely as she drove her arm into solid rock up to her shoulder. Frustration is thrumming through her body- anger and desperation and hopelessness- her cry is choked as she wrenches her limb free, her arm superheated with fire so that the sandstone around her glitters as it turns to glass that shoots light in the dying sun.

Another riot today.

They're getting worse; non-benders screaming obscenities at the Republic City riot police, bellowing slogans, burning _the Avatar in effigy-_

She pivots and smashes fire into one of the training posts because watching something else splinter would be a refreshing change. Water from the dewy grass circles around her like a snake but Korra doesn't relish it, merely unleashes it and breathes a little easier when it cuts an impressive swathe through the landscape.

Everyone expects her to _fix_ everything. The second people know that she's the Avatar she goes from being a person, to being a thing. She's not real to the people she talks to- she doesn't have feelings, or emotions. To the Equalists she is the ultimate form of oppression, to the rest of the world she's the ultimate source of salvation.

To the White Lotus, she is a duty.

To Tenzin she is a legacy.

To Mako and Bolin she's… she's…

She doesn't know what she is. She's never had any friends, really, only sparring partners. Stepping stones to being a fully realized Avatar, not someone she could go to with her problems. Looking back, Korra realized she'd had such a lonely, empty life. Maybe that's why she wasn't any good with connecting or inspiring people- the reason that innocents die in the streets while she stands helpless, caught in the deadlock between helping those who were bleeding out in front of her and the ramifications validating the Equalist cry.

Bending and Naga are all she's ever known and she doesn't think that translates very well to what she has, or wants to have with the pro-bending brothers. She wants what Sifu Katara had with her companions during the Geat War- people who would back her up, encourage her.

She wants what Katara had with Aang.

Something shifts in her, and tears prick at her eyes. Korra doesn't cry, though (Korra never cries. Ever), and instead she explodes. Air bursts around her as she strikes at everything. Fire burns, hot enough that even her mastery over the element is being pushed to its limits. The moisture all around her is seeping, drawn to her by power and rage- it surges from the cracking around to whirl in an elemental vortex with the intent to destroy. She wonders if this is what the Avatar state is; this crackling feeling of stifling misery, the burdens of thousands of lives before her.

"…ra. Korra! KORRA!"

Korra doesn't think her eyes are filled with the blue light described by Sifu Katara, but the expression on her face is enough to stop Master Tenzin in their tracks. She doesn't know whether to be disgusted or elated by the fear in his eyes.

The wind is howling far too loud to hear him now, and Korra is just too tired to keep fighting, to keep smiling, to keep telling everyone that she's fine, everything's fine-

With a move that's all modern bending, Korra _punches_ the roiling stream of elements, sending it careening into the far canyon wall. The muted boom and clap of rock, water and fire propelled by air at deadly force echoing off into the darkening twilight makes her ears twinge in discomfort, but she doesn't much care at this point.

Master Tenzin comes forward, all hesitancy gone. His fear (was it ever there?) is hidden, and his cloak is a comfort as he draws an arm around her, as if trying to shield her from a world that wants to tear her to pieces. She doesn't care that this is the first time she's been hugged since she was, what, seven? She doesn't care that Master Tenzin does more for her then her parents ever did (they just _gave_ her to the White Lotus, didn't they? They _gave her away)_.

She doesn't care that she's confused, and alone, and scared.

She _doesn't. _Really.

* * *

Because you know this is going to happen eventually. It's _written in the stars_.


End file.
